Views from Blue Eyes
by Synbu
Summary: Celinde lives on the SEEDS ship with the crew. She's not like them, but what happens when she meets one who isn't like them either? KOC VOC The whole crew aboard the SEEDS ship gets bashed, but not that badly... DISCONTINUED.
1. Prologue:Celinde's View

A/N: HELLO! TIS NANA AND SYN ONCE MORE WITH ANOTHER ONE OF OUR FREAKISH STORIES! This is a ficcy with an OC as one of the main characters...and Knives...

Nana:Only cuz Syn likes him...AHHHHHHH DON"T KILL ME!!

a chainsaw noise buzzes ominously

Disclaimer: this goes for all chappys so we don't waste page space. WE DO NOT OWN TRIGUN OR ANY OTHER THINGS WE MAY BE REFERRING TO IN HERE!

...Seriously, we can't remember how many things we've used in here...

Behind Blue Eyes

Celinde

They want me to speak.

I can't give them what they want...or maybe I won't give it to them. I can speak, don't get me wrong, but...my _will_ to speak is gone, you might say. Mary asks me, but in that "Sickly-sweet, you're a little kid, I'm the grown up, therefore I am smarter than you" tone. I hate that tone.

I won't speak for her.

Joey asks me to answer him. I blink. He sighs and asks Steve. I hate Steve. Just for the record, I hate Rowan too. He thinks that I am retarded or mental...

...Well I suppose he has had first hand experience...

Obviously, I won't speak for idiots that you would imagine as extras on a Star Trek show.

AKA: Steve and Rowan.

Now, Rem asks me. It's hard to say 'no' to her.

Considering I don't want to talk.

Rem asks me what happened...she says that she wants to help me.

I don't need help. What happened, happened. What THEY did to me is not something I like to talk about.

...So I don't speak...

Simple.

A/N SO! Whaddya think? R&R pleeeeeeeeeeez! puppy dog eyes

Oh...btw...NO FLAMES!!! NONE! NADA!!


	2. Chapter 1: Paprika Oats

A/N Now, the story begins to start! This is all sort of background on what Celindy has to put up with on the ship...just a little bit about her... Btw, the part in play form is basically Celinde showing what it is like to be her...ENOUGH WITH THE DEEP TALK! ON WITH THE STORY...we have waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too much free time...

Disclaimer: (see prologue. It's there, trust us!)

**_Paprika-Oats_**

I am 15. Old enough to drive, old enough to have kids, old enough to get crack from the "big kids"... Whatever... This is not the magic age of the teen years...the teen years aren't magic, damn it! It's all about adults who know so much more than us, encouraging us to be different...

And when we are, we are ridiculed for it.

Explain that to me, Einstein, Galileo and Mohammed.

...And all of those other guys who were

1: old

2: irrelevant (to me, of course)

3: ridiculed

I guess if you're old and different, then it's a celebration...but no, no ,no for people who haven't dug their graves yet.

Typical.

If you can matter then, I guess, they want you all the same. To be young. And hopeless.

I walk along the halls of the ship, seeing glass and chrome and steel everywhere I look...the SEEDS ship, itself, is tapered at the front and square in the back.

Like a syringe.

I stop while walking, studying the wall intently. It has bolts bursting out of it, holding this creaking SYRINGE together. They stare at me. I stare back. They remind me of the bulging eyes of the dead in mortuaries.

It makes me sick.

I yawn. They glare. I swallow the odd thickening in my throat, stifling the noise.

I am silence.

My name even sounds like it. Celinde. Silence.

Footsteps echo amongst all of the chrome and silver metal...it's Rem.

She looks at me and smiles. I am sorry Rem, but you won't understand.

"Celinde? Hi. Dinner is ready!" she says, her smile and kindness in every word. I want to answer her. I reply...a greeting in return.

I nod.

She grins and holds out a hand to me.

"C'mon; I won't bite." She really has a nice smile.

I walk right by her and her smile.

I don't have time for either.

Dinner. Might as well serve oatmeal with paprika and serve it...

That's what this is like. It's all soft and sticky. Warm and sludgy. Not my preferred food. It's all I have had to eat on this ship for six months now. I was always in SEEDS, but as an assistant to the crew. I was just one of many volunteers...

Lucky me.

The rest of the crew talks about their new discovery on a planet...two kids, they say. I don't know what in the hell they are on, but it's gotta be something pretty damn strong.

I say again, lucky me.

"I miss her. I want to see her again," Mary says, twirling her paprika-oats with her fork.

(Don't ask me about the forks. These people are ON something.)

"Now, Mary, you know that she's-"Rowan begins, pushing his glasses up with his fork. Even I notice the thin stream of reddish water flow down the fork and down his face.

It looks like blood.

"What the hell are ya talking 'bout, Poindexter? If Mary wants Rose, she can have her." Steve shouts, his fork slamming into his paprika-oats and splashing the red water on me. Mary smiles nervously.

Me: blink, blink.

"I just want to see her...as she is alive, not as a block of ice." Mary sighs, shooting glances at me.

Me: wipes red water off, promising to pour my paprika-oats onto Steve

"Why, that would be wonderful, Mary! Then Celinde would have someone to talk to." Rem squeals, happiness radiating off of her. Steve snorts.

"Talk to? Rem, you're talkin' about Miss Snot here. Miss "I'm too good for ya all." An ice-bitch." Steve laughs, downing a Kuro-neko beer.

I think that that statement was probably the most intelligent thing Steve has ever done.

And that's saying a lot.

"Steve! She's not an ice-bitch and you know it!" Rem protests, tears in her eyes. I cast an interested glance.

Aren't I supposed to be crying here?

...I live with drug addicts...

Rem storms out, sniffling in my defense. Wow. With a lawyer like that, who needs prosecution?

AKA: Steve.

I hate it here.

I want...

Nothing?

A/N So, there we are! Will Celinde have to eat Rem's foul cooking again? Will she ever meet Knives? Do we have no lives? YES! (to all of those) ;) lol. Too much coooooooke!!

Review and we'll get you ur very own Synbu Coke can!!

No flames please. Just find something else to beat the hell out of, okay?


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